“I will not swear that he is not,” returned the friend, laughing. “He sees everything with eyes so different from mine, that I scarce know what to make of him. I have never known John so deeply interested in any human being, as he is at this moment in this strange creature!” “Creature! You men do not often call young ladies _creatures_, and my brother affirms that this Mary Monson is a lady.” “Certainly she is, so far as exterior, manner, education, and I suppose, tastes, are concerned. Nevertheless, there is too much reason to think she is, in some way unknown to us, connected with crime.” “I have read accounts of persons of these attainments, who have been leagued together, and have carried on a great system of plundering for years, with prodigious success. That, however, was in older countries, where the necessities of a crowded population drive men into extremes. We are hardly sufficiently advanced, or civilized as they call it, for such bold villany.” “A suspicion of that nature has crossed my mind,” returned Millington, looking askance over his shoulder, as if he apprehended that his friend might hear him. “It will not do, however, to remotely hint to John anything of the sort. His mind is beyond the influence of testimony.” Sarah scarce knew what to make of the affair, though sisterly regard disposed her to do all she could to oblige her brother. Marie Moulin, however, was not easily persuaded into consenting to serve a mistress who was in prison. She held up her hands, turned up her eyes, uttered fifty exclamations, and declared, over and over again “_c’est impossible_;” and wondered how a female in such a situation could suppose any respectable domestic would serve her, as it would be very sure to prevent her ever getting a good place afterwards. This last objection struck Sarah as quite reasonable, and had not her brother been so very urgent with her, would of itself have induced her to abandon all attempt at persuasion. Marie, however, finally yielded to a feeling of intense curiosity, when no bribe in money could have bought her. John had said the prisoner knew her—had known her in Europe—and she was soon dying with the desire to know who, of all her many acquaintances in the old world, could be the particular individual who had got herself into this formidable difficulty. It was impossible to resist this feeling, so truly feminine, which was a good deal stimulated by a secret wish in Sarah, also, to learn who this mysterious person might be; and who did not fail to urge Marie, with all her rhetoric, to consent to go and, at least, see the person who had so strong a wish to engage her services. The Swiss had not so much difficulty in complying, provided she was permitted to reserve her final decision until she had met the prisoner, when she might gratify her curiosity, and return to town prepared to enlighten Miss Wilmeter, and all her other friends, on a subject that had got to be intensely interesting.